Harry Potter: At the Beach!
Pairings: HP/GW, HG/RW, AD/MM, Draco/His Reflection, SS/Hagrid?!?!? Nah, just kidding! You won't know who hooks up with who until you read it. I warn you though, don't read it unless you're okay with guy/guy relationships, especially young guy/older guy, student/teacher, Savior/Spy relationships. (Can I be any more obvious as to the main pairing?)
Disclaimer: *sigh* don't own Harry Potter, so don't sue.
Summary: In Harry's 7th year, the Senior class of Hogwarts pools their funds together and plans a Class Week, a time to get away from school and have a vacation, all to themselves. So where do they decide to go? Sunny South Florida, where the sea grapes and the palm trees guard the shell-speckled sand and clear blue Atlantic Ocean. Hilarity ensues when they could only do anything the muggle way! Harry and his pals spend an exciting, albeit hectic, week in a Holiday Inn resort Hotel in the company of their adult chaperones. Enjoy!
Kristin: Get out while you still can.
Day 1: Departure
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"Come back here, Potter! You give those back before I hex you into oblivion!" The usually pompous Draco Malfoy raced around the front lawn in his muggle jeans and Ralph Polo shirt(everyone was going muggle), chasing down a grinning Harry Potter, who had stolen his designer sunglasses. Tiring of the game, Draco sighed and stopped dead with his arms crossed, glaring at the Boy Who Lived.
Harry whooped in victory. "Hah! I won!" Tossing the glasses at the blonde's head, he ran off to join his friends a few yards away.
"Finally, I thought you'd never stop acting immature. Did you double check your bags? You have your trunks, sunscreen, sandals?" Hermione the Head Girl asked, pulling her thick brown hair back into a ponytail. "Ron! Why in the world do you have your broom? There aren't any quidditch fields where we're going, so send it back up to the castle!" She hissed, her badge of power flashing dangerously in the dawning sunlight.
"Awww, but shnoogums-"
"Don't you dare "shnoogums" me, Ronald Weasley! I want to see that broom fly right back up to the Tower...move it!"
"We have everything. Anyway, Dumbledore sent the bags to the airport already. It's all done, now relax."
Ron grumbling something that sounded like "that time of the month, again," he sent it back to his dorm room with a banishing charm.
Dumbledore skipped down the castle's sloping lawn and called them all to silence. "Seventh years! I will call your names from the roll and assign you to a group and a chaperone! Patil, Patil, Brown, Parkinson, Granger! You are all in group one with Professor McGonagall! Finch-Fletchy, Thomas, Boot, Finnigan, Goyle! You are in two with Hagrid. Crabbe, Zabini, Nott, McDougal, and Moon: group three with me. Oh, that rhymed! Ahem, Perks, Bones, Abbott, Brocklehurt, and Bulstrode with Trelawney in four. That leaves Potter, Malfoy, Weasley, Longbottom, and Malfoy Senior, who has financed much of this adventure, and decided to come along! You all are in five with Professor Snape. Everyone form circles with their groups, and make sure to hold on tight to your bags! Grab your portkeys, and we will apparate to the airport. Severus, how about your group first?"
Snape sneered and pulled out a long piece of knotted twine. He, Ron, Harry, Neville, and the two Malfoys touched a part of it. "London International Airport!" Snape spoke, and everyone in the tight-knit group was whisked off to their destination.
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The four seventeen year olds plus two grown men stopped their cross-country tug, all squeezed into the tiniest broom closet imaginable. Lucius was trampled onto the floor in the panic, Draco was hoisted up against the wall, Snape was squished in between Harry and Neville, who was sitting on Ron. Neville and Draco started shrieking, Ron saw a spider and climbed up onto Harry's back, who doubled over with the weight and fell on top of Snape, who blushed as the cute Gryffindor molded himself painfully into his chest.
Lucius was still on the floor, his son and Neville stepping on him every once in a while. Snape finally took control.
"Everybody up! Find the door, or the other groups will be Portkeying right on top of us!" Coming to his senses, Harry lumbered to the door, Ron still gabbling on his back. It was locked. A hum of incoming magic filled the room, and the rest of the men heaved against the wood, and the rusted lock gave, throwing them to the marble floor in a disheveled heap. Just as they did, McGonagall and her five girls flew out of the janitor's closet, piling on top of the boys. A pack of American muggles stopped and took pictures as wave after wave of teenagers flowed from the tiny cupboard, mounting into a formidable human hill in the middle of the busy airport. Snape, Harry, Draco, Ron, Lucius, and Neville were stuck on the bottom, and Hagrid, who had practically smothered everyone, pulled all of them out with one tug, the six males gasping for breath, massaging sore ribs. The tourists clapped, asking for autographs and poses for their snap shots.
Harry dusted himself off, and helped his chaperone up off of the floor. Snape and he reddened in complexion when remembering their compromising position on the tile.
"Hogwarts School students, this way to the plane!" Dumbledore cheered. His group had been the last, and they had all walked over their peers' backs to the hall, unscathed. Everyone picked themselves up, un-squishing their packs, and straightening their wrinkled clothes, following their perky Headmaster.
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The Delta plane was an enormous Boeing 757, and many wizard students gawped at it apprehensively, faces pressed against the glass. The teachers were standing at the entrance podium, checking everyone's tickets and passports. Harry was a bundle of excitement: he loved planes, even though he had never been on one. Ron looked like a live tarantula had been stuffed up his throat. "That's a bloody big bird."
"It's not a bird, Ron. It's an airplane. Oh, this will be so fun!" Hermione gushed, hugging her stricken boyfriend.
"All passengers in rows 50 through 35 can now board flight 7646 from London to West Palm Beach, Florida. Please form a line by the terminal gate to get your ticket scanned. Thank you for your cooperation." A squeaky voice said over the intercom, and Snape ushered his group to the gate.
"That's us. Potter, Weasley, and I are in row 42, the Malfoys and Longbottom are across the isle, one row in front. Give the lady your tickets and passports." Snape muttered, passing out the paperwork.
One terminal walk later, they shuffled their way into the back of the plane, storing their bags overhead, and their smaller carry-ons they stowed under their seats. A buxom blonde stewardess( pardon me, flight attendant) ushered the rest of the passengers on slowly, until the whole aircraft was packed full. Ron was shaking, but Harry and Neville were stoked and excited. Snape and Lucius had their eyes shut tight, and the plane's engines hadn't even revved up yet.
"Welcome to Delta flight 7646 from London to West Palm Beach, Florida! Please note the emergency exits, one on each end of the plane, and two located in the middle, blah blah..." Her incessantly perky voice turned into a drone as Harry flipped through the FLY magazine."...our inflight movie will be "Gone with the Wind," and thank you for choosing to fly with Delta." He set the magazine down, and checked his and his row-mate's seatbelts. He couldn't have that delectable Slytherin injuring himself before he had a chance to share a hotel room with him. 'Whoooa, dirty, dirty Harry!' he chided himself, thinking of cold showers. The lights went out and the plane crept forward. Neville was pressed against his window, and Harry to his. He was eating this up.
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The Boeing turned the last lane, finally stopping, revving up, and shooting down the runway, speed gathering, air thickening with the heavy sounds of powerful engines twirling to lift a several hundred ton metal bird into the air. Several students whooped, and even more groaned and sobbed. Severus had his head buried in his black-haired student's shoulder, and over the throbbing heartbeat in his ears, he heard his professor mumbling," makeitstop makeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstop...." At the first turn, he changed his mantra to "IwillnotpukeI willnotpukeIwillnotpuke..."
Twelve long hours later, they finally touched down in sunny South Florida, half the plane population zoned out, but one boy saviour wide awake, holding his slumbering Potions Master's warm hand. Awww.....
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well, what did you think? This is a brainchild hatched by myself and my best school bud, MJW100. Thanks to my chica, Katrina, the best beta reader in the world! Please review!